


Hand In Hand With Someone I Don't Know

by AshleighJWalter



Series: Bloom Inside Your Blood [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, I wrote this because there aren't enough soulmate fics in this world, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 08:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3843757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshleighJWalter/pseuds/AshleighJWalter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Frank was being totally honest he would say that he loved the whole concept of Soulmates. Except that, well, he wasn't being honest at all.<br/>If you asked him, he'd say that the little name in red writing on his ribcage mean fuck all and that he didn't want the universe, or God, or whatever other fucking deity it might be to slap him with this one person for the rest of his life. He'd say that he didn't ever want to meet his Soulmate, never, not even a little bit.<br/>Except that it’s a lie</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand In Hand With Someone I Don't Know

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Hand In Hand by Walking On Cars.

If Frank was being totally honest he would say that he loved the whole concept of soulmates. Except that, well, he wasn't being honest at all.

If you asked him, he'd say that the little name in red writing on his ribcage mean fuck all and that he didn't want the universe, or God, or whatever other fucking deity it might be to slap him with this one person for the rest of his life. He'd say that he didn't ever want to meet his soulmate, never, not even a little bit.

Except that it’s a lie.

There are days when Frank gets drunk enough to block out all the failure and fucked-up-ness of his life. On those days, if you ask him at just the right moment, Frank doesn't lie.

He'll tell you how the loop of the G in red on his rib gives him butterflies. How he stares at the words in his mirror for hours on end. He'll tell you about when his dad left and the only thing that stopped him from giving in were the nights when the words tingled and warmed up and he heard this voice in his ear telling him that it'd be okay. Then he'd laugh and say how ridiculous that was because only people who had met their soulmate could feel them when they were apart and Frank would fucking know, of course he would know, if he'd met his soulmate. Then after just breathing and thinking and smiling he'd tell you how much he just wants to fucking meet this Gerard dude and hug the ever-loving fuck out of the guy.

Today was going to be one of those days. Frank just got thrown out of ANOTHER fucking band for god knows what this time and the motherfuckers kept his favourite effects pedal. Stupid fucking band money and stupid fucking awesome reverb and fuck. Frank really liked that damn reverb pedal. Once he's gone to the music store downtown to find a new pedal he is definitely going to go home and sit in his room and play Misfits songs and drink until he passes out. But first he needs about a gallon of coffee and maybe a sandwich.

* * *

 If Gerard ever leaves this room it would cause worldwide destruction and lead to some sort of colourful bandit group taking over and ray guns and cool shit. Well, at least that's what Gerard tells himself. It's actually just because if he leaves the room he might accidentally see sunlight and that is never going to end well. If you're wondering the room is his mother’s basement, and while it's also technically his bedroom he prefers to call it his mother’s basement, because then he feels less like a loser who still lives at home at 25 and is forever covered in paint. But hey, he'll take it.

As an artist, soulmates are a pretty common theme in his work. It's mostly just drawings of what he thinks his soulmate might look like, or his own recreation of the writing on his rib...he can never get the F just right though. To some people his work seems like a bunch of random drawings of scorpions and guns and sparrows. Gerard knows that. Heck, if he wasn't certain that his soulmate might have something to do with those things, he'd think they were just random too.

Except that right now Gerard wants about a gallon of coffee and a sandwich and he figures he can finish off this piece at the coffee shop down the road. Sunlight be damned.

* * *

 As far as coffee shops go, The Black Coffee-n (Frank pronounces it like coffin, but no one is really sure) is probably one of Franks favourites. They have coffee and cupcakes and mostly just food in general and really, what more could a person want? Also his crazy haired friend Ray Toro always gives him a discount on his coffee so that’s just more incentive.

It’s a pretty adorable coffee shop with local artists' work on the walls of cool stuff like a Lady of Sorrows (which Frank totally didn’t use as a basis for his version of the Saint, totally not). There’s also an entire wall of books that people can sit and read and swap out for their old books, it’s one of Frank’s favourite parts about the whole place.

“Yo, Iero! Stop staring at my book wall and order something!”

Once Frank had processed that, actually, _his_ surname was Iero and that Toro was talking to him, he also realised that some other motherfucker, sorry, person had waltzed into the shop and was ordering his coffee first. That bitch! Who even pushes in front of people? Frank has decided that this person must be a complete fuck, and is obviously not trained in the art of having manners.

The person seems a little older than Frank, but Frank is basing this off of the fact that they’re taller than him…which means fuck all. Frank can’t help but check the dude out, he’s got white hair, but it’s clearly dyed and also seems to have a random red streak down the back. After looking at his clothes Frank realises that it’s probably paint because the guy is covered in red and blue specs. So after this scrutiny, Frank figures the guy is a douchebag artist which explains a lot really. He’s got a gigantic folder thingy under his arm as well so that was another clue towards artist, instead of some dude just taking a break from decorating his house or some shit.

It’s not until the guy has sat down across the room that Frank realises that his Soul mark was burning hot.

“Hey Frank! What can I do you for?” Toro asks him, way too enthusiastically for Frank’s current day.

“Why are you so enthusiastic Toro? Not only is it a Monday, but it is also the worst day in the existence of worst days ever made. And at this point you must know that I am priceless and no matter how much money you put on the table you won't ever 'do' me.” Frank just can’t quite deal with this after losing his favourite damn reverb pedal, fucking band money. Frank will never forget this. He loved that pedal more than he loves his Soul mark…well that’s a lie, but he really did love that pedal. “I’ll just have the biggest damn cup of the strongest damn coffee you can manage…and that tomato and basil sandwich.”

“Bad day huh? That sucks man, but sure, biggest cup and sandwich coming up…Hey! That rhymed!” Ray looked far too pleased with himself and Frank mostly just wants to gouge his eyes out so just grunts at him and pays. He starts looking around the little coffee shop to find somewhere to sit…and comes up empty handed. The only place left is at a table with douchebag artist guy and really, is that really Frank’s day? It’s better than nothing though and the guy seems pretty invested in whatever he’s drawing.

“Here you go Iero…Hey! I just realised the guy that ordered before you asked for almost the exact same thing, he just wanted...” He tapers off at Franks glare. “You don’t care do you?”

“How could you tell? Was it my piqued interest or the excited clapping?” Frank replies in a monotone that is literally dripping with sarcasm. Frank snatches up his coffee and his sandwich and heads over to douchey artists table. It’s a four seater so he doesn’t even have to sit across from the guy, which makes it just a little bit better for Frank.

“Hey man, is it okay if I sit here?” Frank asks the douchebag artist guy (he really should stop calling him that in his head) and before the guy can even look up Frank’s breath gets caught in his throat.

He’s drawing Frank’s chest piece, the bomb and the spider webs look almost exactly the same. The thing is though, that Frank hasn’t even gotten it done yet, his first appointment with his tattoo studio isn’t for another month and the only other person who knows he’s getting it is his friend Jamia.

“What the FUCK dude? How in the hell? Where did you get that design? Because it sure as hell ain’t yours motherfucker!” The guy looks like a deer in the headlights, Frank can’t believe the dudes nerve!

“I…I…erm…I just had the idea last night…it was…um…in a…well, it was a dream…just like a hint of this I guess…erm…I have no idea what’s going on right now” The guy manages to stutter his way to an explanation that makes zero sense to Frank and before he can ask for a better reason the guy continues. “Wait! Where did you see that scorpion? Because that’s one of mine, I draw it all the time…why would you get that done dude? I say every time they’re shown that it’s from my Soulmate and people can’t get it tattooed! It’s been like that since I first drew it 3 years back! You are such a dick man! Getting on my case about some drawing when you get that done after probably being told not too!”

Frank can’t breathe. Frank can’t even think straight. Three years, he’d said three years.

“I’ve had this scorpion tattoo for about 5 years now dude…I…does that mean…what’s your name?” Frank can’t deal with this, he’s going to be sick. This dude can’t be Gerard, no way. His Gerard liked comics and nerdy things. He wasn’t a douchebag artist. No way.

“Wait…rewind…five years? How is that even possible? I don’t…Frank?” Douchebag artist dude looked about as shocked as Frank currently felt. He knew Frank’s name. Jesus fuck this guy really is Gerard isn’t he.

“Yeah, that’s me. You’re Gerard right? Dude I always figured you’d like nerdy comics and the Misfits and Black Flag and we could play music together or some shit. You had to fucking ruin it all and be a douchebag artist didn’t you! Christ, can this day get any worse for me? NO! Don’t even answer that dude.” Frank sat down heavily at the table with Gerard and laid his forehead on it. Today was not his day at all. He just wanted to go home and lay on his bed and cry and get drunk. Just not this. Anything but this.

* * *

There are approximately 7,000 things running through Gerard’s mind right now and every single one of them has to do with Frank. He can’t believe that a single craving for coffee lead to this. He also can’t believe that he was right about all those drawings. He can see the scorpion and the lady of sorrows, he figures the guys probably got guns and sparrows somewhere as well. This is one of the weirdest days of his life and it is literally only 1:00 in the afternoon. What is going on?

His brain is still trying to process what Frank has said to him because, _HELLO_ Soulmate over here, before he’s jumping in to correct him.

“NO! I’m not a douchebag artist! Well I am, but I mostly just draw comics and, erm, apparently your tattoos. And I love Black Flag and the Misfits and trust me when I say that I am most definitely a nerd. I dunno about playing music together though…I’ve been told I can sing but that’s about it.”

That seems to shut Frank up a bit, and also blow his mind if the massive eyes are anything to go by. He sort of looks a little bit like a blubbering fish for a bit. Gerard needs to restart his brain so really this is a welcome break.

“Do you want to get dinner together?” Blurts itself out of Frank’s mouth before Gerard has managed to get a grip on himself.

“I…yeah, yeah I’d like that.” Well, that totally isn’t what he meant to say but this dude is his Soulmate so really, how badly could a date go?

“Good…um…we should probably finish our coffees first.” Frank’s blushing. Holy cow this dude is the most adorable human that Gerard has ever met and he’s his damn _Soulmate_.

“Yeah, coffee first. Food later. That works.” Gerard can’t wait.

“We also need to go to the music store because my old band kept my damn reverb pedal. I loved that motherfucker. Stupid band money and stupid old band and stupid damn awesome pedal” Well, if anything was going to make Gerard melt it was how passionate Frank was about a pedal.

He really couldn’t wait to get to know this guy.


End file.
